Page 23 of Many Ruined Vows on a Forbidden Frolic

With a sigh, tension leaves my friend’s muscles, and he deflates like a worn leather bellows. He drags himself to the desk and collapses into the chair, looking older than his years. I notice a few lavendering hairs on his head, and guilt fills me for leaving my friend alone for so many years, running a kingdom with a gluttonous council and a diminishing wife. I should have been here to help ease his burden.

“Not that it matters.” He scrubs a hand over his forehead. “This pairing will have their blessing, enchantments or not.”

My brow furrows as a plan forms. It’s archaic, and a direct betrayal of her wishes in more ways than one, but still, my hooves dance excitedly.

“I can fix this,” I say with more conviction this time. Vyrion peers at me through his fingers. “I’ll challenge Halor for her hand by way of Ordinance X.”

It’s a dirty trick. Before the council seized the final rights to a noble’s choice in first mate, there was a process in place that allowed anyone with objections to the first mate a chance to challenge the pairing’s fruition. It’s no longer practiced, but was never struck from the official ordinances. The winner’s prize was marriage. The loser’s was often death.

My tail swishes. I’ve done so much to harm Princess Loreleivnna. I’ll save her from the ventus’serpentaur at the cost of her free will, sacrificing any trust she still harbors in me.

“It’s the only way,” I say out loud, trying to assuage my bleeding heart.

“Yes.” The King Vyrion rises, hope returning to his sage green eyes. “Well sown, my friend. The council will be forced to agree.”

I nod, but my chest aches. I’ve learned too much information during this meeting. All this time, I could have won her heart the right way, no gimmicks, no unkind words as I greedily coaxed her orgasm to coat my pelt. I could have kissed her in that forest and told her that my brittle heart belonged to her, if she desired to rescue it from the scrap heap.

Vyrion circles his desk. He slaps my forearm and gives a firm shake, grinning as though I’ve already won his daughter’s hand in marriage. I thought I was protecting him by rejecting her advances, but here he is, smiling like I’ve brought him a newborn foal heir. Perhaps, if the Wise Ones grant me a miracle, she will forgive me and allow me to prove my worthiness as a mate, and I won’t have to sacrifice my dearest friendship along the way.

“This is why you are my most trusted fopweed,” he teases, unaware of how many times I’ve betrayed that trust. “Your existence nurtures me, Brother. Win the challenge.”

“I will. I vow it.”

“Win, but do not slay him. We cannot cull an ally.”

I sneer, but give a solemn nod. “Understood.”

“Rosy. Then,” His smile grows into something more malicious. “Once the petal-fucking, manure-sucking cloud vermin departs, you’ll relinquish your claim, and Loreleivnna can choose someone suitable.”

I swallow the broken whinny that threatens my composure as my world takes another heart-shattering blow of the sledgehammer.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Vyrion glares up at me. With a forced chuckle, I amend, “Yes, Vyrion, my brother. I will return your daughter to you safely and free of that scheming slug.”

For the briefest moment, I’d glimpsed a version of my life with the fierce and bright Princess Loreleivnna by my side, with my best friend’s blessing. A fantasy sweeter than moondrop herb and aevum honey tea, but never meant to be.

Chapter Eighteen

Loreleivnna

My dreams churn with the thick molasses of love, hot and sticky. A tap at the window stirs me awake, and the humid feeling bleeds into reality. I peel myself from the bed like bark from a taffygum tree. A smile cuts my cheeks at the sight of my betrothed hovering over the balcony, the islands that will soon be my home looming in the sky behind him.

I wade across the room to close the curtain. Betrothed. For so long, I’ve fought against my responsibility to secure a mate. So many times I’ve thought about running away to live the life of a dandelion bristle, floating around unplanted.

With Father’s gift of choice, I’ve stressed over finding my right match, my heart besotted over a forbidden love. Being with Halor is like living in a perfectly curated reverie crafted from my heart’s fallen petals. It’s as though I’ve known him my whole life. He’s in all of my memories–or the shape of him is there, watching the memory alongside me. When I told my sisters this, I didn’t receive the overjoyed reaction I’d expected. Ilrunysanna called it creepy, and she’s a hopeless romantic still clinging to the love in her stale marriage.

I don’t care what she or anyone else says. I know the feeling I’m experiencing is true love, for my brain stem drips the word into my heart over and over.

The feybell flowers twinkle, and a servant relays a message from Father. My betrothed and I are to meet with the council immediately.

I sigh and shed my nightgown in favor of a coarse dress woven with Aevumoon Iris fiber that covers my arms, the thick skirt falling in rigid drapes to my feet. The muted blue spruce color against my light green skin gives the vibe of murky water, and I pinch my lips. I prefer colorful moonsilk dresses that billow in the wind like willow branches, but I don’t bother to change.

Opening the curtains, I’m surprised to see empty space over the balcony. My lungs expand like tilled soil, my next breath unrestricted by the heavy weight of love.

I take my time traversing the palace halls. A fog blankets my mind, like something’s missing. I’ve forgotten something, but I can’t place it.

Around the corner of the throne room, a peacefulness settles over me.

Halor reaches for me the moment I walk in. I take his hand, glad to be reunited with my living daydream. Whatever I’ve forgotten isn’t important, and the feeling fades.